Operation 37, the Reverse Caste Card, and Why India Must Be Alert to Manufactured Social Faultlines

Last year, while pursuing a series of political investigations that later came to be informally referred to as Operation 37, we stumbled upon something deeply unsettling. At the heart of it was not merely a domestic power play within the BJP - an alleged internal push to nudge Prime Minister Narendra Modi toward retirement at 75 - but whispers of something larger, darker, and far more dangerous: the possibility of foreign strategic interests attempting to inflame India’s caste equations from within.

If even fragments of what we encountered are true, the strategy was chilling in its simplicity - play what could be called the reverse caste card.

For decades, India’s social justice discourse has revolved around correcting historical injustices faced by OBCs, SCs, and STs. That effort, though politically weaponised at times, is rooted in constitutional morality. But what we came across suggested a far more cynical design: push the system toward aggressive appeasement policies in the name of social justice, stretch affirmative action frameworks to their most contentious limits, and in the process create a perception - whether accurate or not - that the General Category was being institutionally sidelined.

That perception, more than any policy detail, would be the fuse.

India’s strength has always been its ability to manage diversity without Balkanising. Religion, language, region, and caste are faultlines, yes - but they have largely remained political variables, not civil war triggers.

The alleged strategy we heard about aimed to change that. The thinking, as it was described to us, was brutally pragmatic: you don’t destabilise a rising power like India through direct confrontation; you do it by amplifying its internal contradictions. Caste, with its layered history and emotional charge, is an ideal pressure point.

The goal would not necessarily be to “help” OBCs, SCs, or STs. Nor would it genuinely be about harming the General Category. The real objective would be to create mutual resentment - to make one section feel perpetually wronged by history and another feel newly victimised by the present.

That is a recipe for generational anger.

No foreign design can succeed without domestic enablers - sometimes witting, often unwitting. Bureaucratic overreach, politically vulnerable ministers, and ideologically driven policy advisers can become instruments in a larger game without ever realising it.

Push through regulations that appear socially progressive on the surface but lack social consensus. Expand quotas without parallel expansion in opportunities. Introduce rules that seem to prioritise identity over merit without carefully communicating intent or safeguards.

Soon, the debate stops being about inclusion and starts being about exclusion.

This is where the alleged external playbook becomes particularly dangerous: it doesn’t require dramatic or unconstitutional steps. It thrives on incremental policy shifts that, taken together, alter the psychological balance of fairness in society.

The new UGC Regulations 2026 have to be viewed in this broader context. On paper, many of the changes may be defended as attempts to widen representation, democratise access, or correct institutional biases in higher education.

But perception is everything in a society as socially sensitive as India.

If large segments of students and faculty begin to believe that academic standards, hiring, or promotions are being shaped primarily by caste arithmetic rather than competence and capability, resentment will not remain confined to campus debates. It will travel into homes, workplaces, and eventually the political arena.

Universities are not just centres of learning. They are social barometers. When campuses polarise, the country often follows.

Whether intentionally or not, regulations that are seen as structurally favouring one group at the perceived expense of another can act as precisely the kind of ‘spark’ that destabilising forces would look for. Not because the policies themselves cause violence, but because they reshape narratives of fairness and opportunity.

And once the narrative hardens - ‘the system is rigged against us’ - facts become irrelevant.

India’s constitutional vision of reservations was never meant to become a permanent battlefield between communities. It was designed as a bridge - a temporary corrective mechanism to ensure historically disadvantaged groups could compete on more equal footing.

But when political and bureaucratic actions give the impression that the state is choosing sides rather than balancing interests, social justice mutates into social competition.

Instead of ‘how do we uplift the disadvantaged?’ the conversation becomes ‘who is being favoured now?’

That shift is toxic. It transforms policy debates into identity wars.

If an external intelligence or geopolitical rival wanted to slow India’s rise without firing a shot, encouraging precisely this shift would be strategically effective. A nation busy fighting internal perception battles has less energy for economic reform, technological growth, or global leadership.

The greatest risk is not any single regulation, quota tweak, or administrative circular. It is the gradual capture of the national narrative.

If young Indians begin to see themselves first as victims of other caste groups rather than as citizens competing in a shared national project, India’s demographic dividend could turn into a demographic time bomb.

Social media will do the rest - amplifying grievance, simplifying complex policy into emotional slogans, and turning isolated incidents into proof of systemic injustice on all sides.

Once society internalises a siege mentality, reconciliation becomes politically costly and socially rare.

The strategic logic behind stoking caste tension is brutally straightforward: engineer a social flashpoint that corners Prime Minister Modi into a no-win situation. If he intervenes strongly to restore balance, he risks being branded anti-reservation or anti-social justice. If he allows existing policy currents to continue unchecked, he is accused of enabling discrimination against the General Category. Either path fuels anger from one side while eroding trust on the other. The conflict stops being about policy and becomes personal. The narrative shifts from systemic debate to leadership blame - steadily chipping away at Modi’s cross-caste appeal and portraying him as the face of division. Tragically, he may not even see that the deepest faultlines lie within sections of his own administration, where some actors could be drifting from his mandate and, knowingly or not, advancing agendas that weaken the very leadership they serve.

India must remain committed to social justice - but equally committed to social cohesion. Policies must be transparent, data-driven, and accompanied by clear communication that emphasises expansion of opportunity, not redistribution of scarcity.

Most importantly, political leadership and civil society must resist framing every reform through the lens of caste arithmetic alone. Economic growth, job creation, and institutional expansion reduce zero-sum tensions. Scarcity magnifies them.

If there was ever an attempt - foreign or domestic - to light a caste fuse in India, the antidote is not denial but balance. Not appeasement, but careful calibration rooted in constitutional equality and national unity.

Because once caste conflict escapes the realm of politics and enters the streets, no one wins - and India loses decades of progress in the process.

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